


No Place Like Home.

by Yeziel_Moore



Series: Dancing With Angels [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, cuteness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-24
Updated: 2013-06-24
Packaged: 2017-12-16 01:46:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yeziel_Moore/pseuds/Yeziel_Moore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All the important lessons are hard to learn and the new angel brings with him what may be the hardest lesson of all. In the end it's worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Place Like Home.

  
**Disclaimer:** _I still don't own Supernatural or Harry Potter. I'll keep trying but in the meantime I give you this.  
_ **Words:** _9127._

 

* * *

  
The new angel was odd and strange and alien and every other synonym they could think of.

He had appeared out of nowhere and in the worst time Heaven had ever seen, right after Lucifer had been cast out. The only reason he hadn't been taken prisoner without a word or killed on sight was the shockingly red rune carved on his right cheek, exactly over the cheekbone.

 _Father_ , it depicted, and even an idiot could have told you that it meant protection. For one reason or another, their Father had deemed this angel worthy of His protection and, for the life of them, they couldn't figure it out.

But it wasn't just his abrupt arrival in the middle of a tumultuous time or the fact that he was sporting their Creator's touch that had every angel on Heaven on edge, it was his power, more specifically, the nature of his powers. While every angel on Heaven had their own little quirk that set their grace apart from their brothers, they were, on essence, the same: Light. The new angel, however, was Shadow and Darkness. Their wariness honestly had nothing to do with his blacker-than-night hair, his pale parlour, or his weirdly-tinted wings. It was a subtle feeling, something that wafted from the petite angel in invisible waves, something that was present in the shadows that lurked behind his intensely green eyes and his fake smile.

They had never met an angel that saw it fit to fake happiness either. They were happy or they were not and that was it.

All in all, they were wary and they were not welcoming even if they never showed it openly. They didn't need to, for they were beings that connected deeply with their spirits and minds. And so the truth was obvious in the silence that permeated the newcomer's mind and the lack of threads connecting to his odd grace.

His name was Hariel and, as sad as the situation was, he couldn't muster the energy to care anymore.

Hariel hadn't always been an angel; that was, in fact, a rather new development in the long list of shitty happenings that made up his existence. He had always been the odd one out though, so the cold shoulder that his new family saw fit to give him shouldn't have come as a surprise. And it didn't, he wasn't surprised. Disappointed? Yes. Disillusioned? A lot. Hurt? Yeah, that too. But he wasn't surprised as this treatment wasn't anything new to the newest angel of Heaven who took in the magnificent sights of his new Home with jaded eyes that didn't belong into his youthful face.

He had to admit, though, that Heaven was everything that the Christians of his time imagined and more, much more. Except for the part of living in clouds; much like in Earth, the clouds were over their heads. They  _could_  reach them and they  _could_  perch on them but it wasn't a common occurrence, something that he was glad about. Flying was awesome, really, but perching on clouds and playing the harp day in day out was another thing altogether.

But back to Heaven, the centre was the White City. It was built in seven levels and was exactly as it sounded: a city made of the purest whites in existence. The top was where His throne resided and the only ones allowed there were God's top soldiers: the Archangels, as well as the gardener: Joshua; unless, of course, you were required by Him. As far as he knew it wasn't a common occurrence.

Spanning from the first ring, with its blindingly white Pantheon on the centre, were six other levels. There weren't any walls separating those, just luscious gardens teeming with life, and no real difference in between them except for the fact that the outer rings were bigger and less crowded. Not that the White City was crowded, mind you, there was actually enough space inside the city to house ten times the number of angels currently inhabiting it. He didn't need to guess to know that the recent war was the one responsible for it.

Hariel was really glad that he hadn't arrived while the war was raging. He felt slightly guilty about it but he had had enough of wars to last him forever. The consequences, however, were glaringly obvious. The seventh and sixth rings were ruined, completely and utterly demolished under the onslaught of Lucifer's army. The rocks had crumbled, the grass had wilted and trees had been uprooted. And everything was soaked in blood: the pearly substance that was angel's blood and the disgustingly black sludge that was demon's blood. The black blood made Hariel shiver in disgust and his skin crawl thanks to the sheer evil he could feel reeking from it.  
  


* * *

  
Three weeks had passed since his arrival and nobody had paid him much attention as of yet busy as they were with the injured and the dead. He had offered his assistance but had been told that it wasn't required at the moment. He had nodded in understanding, smiled and left the offer hanging in the air, where it would stay, untouched. He wasn't stupid, in spite of the mild tone in which he had been declined he knew that they would never call him unless it was to interrogate him. He didn't willingly approach any other angel again.

Nevertheless, he didn't leave to do something else. He let them work and take care of their injured and once they left the site he started doing his own, self-assigned, job. He didn't know why he did it, there was no reason for him to help and he hadn't been given any. But looking around the destruction he found that he couldn't sit still. He had never been able to sit tight while others did the grunt part of the job. He had down-right detested the few times he had been forced to wait idly while his friends risked their lives in some random battlefield. The war here was over and these angels were neither his friends nor his family, but the situation remained the same in many ways. At the very least the manual job would help him clear his mind from unwelcome thoughts about the unknown fate of said friends.

Let it be known that clean-up job wasn't, by any impossible stretch of the imagination, fun. He may not be the one hauling bodies but... standing around fallen walls, craters, scorched spots and splatters of blood, Hariel was forcefully reminded of many other battlefields... and dozens of others clean-ups. Few things were worse, he decided as he levitated a column out of his way, than staying behind to try and put the pieces of a broken life together. Slowly he put it where he knew it belonged and with a bit of an effort he managed to twist his odd mix of newly gained grace and old magic into an effective spell that resembled a  _reparo_. It wasn't the same though, because  _reparo_  couldn't recreate the missing parts of the object in question and that was exactly what his new spell did.

Hariel shrugged and moved on, chalking the odd occurrence to the fact that he wasn't human anymore and thus wasn't tied to their rules, whichever those rules were. He had never quite figured it out.

He was twisting his way around what he guessed used to be a well cared for and breathtakingly beautiful garden when he heard a weak call. He froze, dreading that he may've been discovered doing something he was not supposed to do, thus angering someone more powerful than himself. When a minute passed, then three minutes and then ten more he relaxed. He shook his head at his paranoid and not to mention ridiculous actions, feeling suddenly foolish because of them. What did it matter that he was in an abandoned section of the gigantic city? And as far as he knew repairing things wasn't a crime.

He had resumed his walking when he heard the voice again, only this time he didn't freak out on the spot. He stopped, looking around with narrowed eyed. He hadn't noticed the first time, but if his exceedingly good hearing wasn't playing tricks on him, then that voice belonged to a child, a very frightened and possibly hurt angel-child. Then his hero complex kicked in.

"Hello? Where are you?" called the raven-haired angel in an even voice that held a soothing quality to it.

Silence was his only answer but he wasn't discouraged just yet. The child was obviously scared out of his or her wits and wary in spite of the dire situation. It was a good reaction to have during wartime.

"Hey child, the fight is over, there is no need to be afraid now." Staying mostly still, Hariel looked around, trying to spot the most likely place for this child to be either hidden or trapped. He also let some of his grace to surface; this served a double purpose: soothing the fledging and helping him focus on his sensing abilities, which were practically non-existent.

Finally his efforts paid off.

"R-really? I-i-it's o-ver?" The voice was weak and raspy as it floated from somewhere to his left.

Hariel frowned in worry as he directed his steps towards there. He knew that angels didn't need sustenance in the same way that humans did, they had no need for food or water or sleep. At least grown angels didn't need it. Children on the other hand...

He kept his voice low and soothing and never stopped talking. "Yeah, it's over. Everyone is helping rebuilding what was... damaged and the injured are getting better,"  _except for the dead_ , he added in the privacy of his lonely mind. More silence. Hariel stomped down the worry in his chest. "Talk to me kiddo so I can know where you are. Why don't you tell me what you can see?"

"I-it's dark," whispered the kid through chattering teeth. "And d-damp and c-c-cold."

" _Dark, damp and cold, that sounds like a cave, which there isn't any around, or a hole, which is possible,"_  analyzed Hariel in his mind. He added out loud: "Well, here is sunny and nice so hold up for a little while and I'll get you out in no time, how does that sound?"

"N-nice, it sound-ds n-n-nice."

No more than a minute had passed when Hariel found himself facing huge section of what once was a stone wall and an arch, pieces of them were resting heavily on top of the trunk of a huge willow. A few feet to the side a dirtied pond that may've been beautiful once could be seen, a few colourful petals still floated and swayed slightly. The willow had been uprooted by some kind of monstrous energy attack, the same attack that had toppled the wall and other nearby structures. Hariel could tell just by seeing it that the tree had been magnificent and ancient, the huge roots were a testament to that.

It reminded Hariel of the Whomping Willow, it even had a hole or tunnel under it.

"Kid, do me a favour and get as far away from the rocks as you can." When a positive answer reached him Hariel put the considerable power at his disposition to work.

It took some serious effort and his complete concentration to lift all the heavy pieces of wall without dropping anything into the hole where the little angel had taken refuge. But he succeeded. He dropped them without fanfare on the side, too tired by the sudden effort to care. Ignoring the strain that using so much of his energy at once in such enormous quantities caused him, Hariel crawled over the entrance of the hole. Two dimming pools of blue fire met his own emerald gaze.

"Hey kiddo, need me to levitate you?"

"P-lease?" The voice was getting weaker and he could recognize some kind of pain there too.

"No problem, just stay still."

Lifting the small body of the fledging didn't even take an effort and so in mere seconds Hariel's lap was full of silently sobbing child. It seemed like the near-death experience had finally caught up with the little one. Awkwardly, the black-haired angel hugged the kid and tried to sooth him. When back-rubbing didn't do the trick he resorted to something he had never thought he would ever use. He sang. Or more like hummed. It was a lullaby and the only memory -besides green light and deranged laugher- that he had of his mother. At the time he had been so little that he had no idea if it had a lyric and he had never found out. Still, whenever he was distressed, humming what little of it he could remember never failed to calm him.

It apparently worked on little angels too. Hariel smiled slightly at the softening of the kid's breathing. He kept humming and mussing the dark blonde hair on that head, which caused the little guy's eyes to start dropping. He was glad that the kid had calmed but falling asleep in his state was dangerous. The kid's wings were a mess, one was obviously broken and half of his feathers were missing or scorched; he had burns and bruises all over and at least one broken leg. Had the little guy been human he would be long dead. In any case Hariel didn't feel the need to test how much damage an angel could survive so he stood up and began making his way out of the ruins.

"Hey little guy, don't fall asleep just yet," he said and tugged an ear when he was ignored. A yelp and a tired glare notified him of his success. "You were there a long time, without food or water, and you are tired as well as hurting, I get it. But you don't want to fall asleep and never wake up, do you?" The child's eyes widened and he frantically shook his head, before wincing at the movement. "Then you've to stay awake for a bit longer. I know it hurts but I'll take you where somebody can help you." He probably could do it himself, actually, he  _knew_  that he could, but he didn't feel like starting his healing career by experimenting on a child.

"So, what's your name? I can keep calling you 'little guy', I'm little too so imagine how confusing that would be!" Hariel exclaimed, making fun of his less than stellar height. His efforts paid off when the kid cracked a small smile.

"I'm Castiel," informed his injured charge, voice no longer trembling, fortunately.

"Castiel, huh? That's a nice name. Mine's Hariel, nice to meet you, little Cass!"

'Cass' frowned. "My name is not 'Cass', its Castiel," informed the kid in all seriousness.

It was too cute for words.

"I know, you've just told me. Cass is a... term of endearment." the kid still looked confused so he tried to elaborate. He needed to keep Castiel awake and talking was the safest route. "Sometimes... sometimes friends and family who appreciate each other give that person a different name, one that means something special to them. Castiel is a great and strong name and it suits you," and boy it did, the guy had spent at least three weeks buried in a cold hole and he was not only lucid but alert, mostly. "But I think that my newest friend needs his own form of endearment."

"Friend?" Oh, right, Heaven apparently was not very big on friendship, which was bullshit in his opinion. Family on the other hand...

"A friend is like family, only that this one is chosen. Friend is somebody you trust and that in exchange trusts you, always, in every situation. Friends don't need to share blood like family does, although sometimes a family member can be a friend too." He looked down at Castiel who looked adorably confused. "You'll understand it someday, just know that not everyone can be your friend, only those that you would trust with your life and for whom you would die for."

Castiel nodded, face scrunched in thoughtful contemplation, once more being too adorable for words. Hariel managed to stifle his laugher, instead he sighed in relief when he stepped out of the huge gardens and onto open space. Here he could take off in flight.

"I'm going to fly as it would take less time to reach the Healer's Centre. It may rattle your injuries a bit, though. Unless you want me to walk? If so you need to stay awake."

Castiel looked unsure and a bit scared, it was obvious that his injuries were paining him and that he wasn't keen on feeling more pain. Still, he nodded and agreed softly but with conviction. "Fly."

Not one to demean him by asking if he was sure, Hariel nodded and uncovered his wings. The wings were huge and impressive and he was quite proud of them. They were at least twice as large as he was tall, and coloured in a mixture of metallic greens and blues with some streaks of crimson. They actually reminded him of the colour he had seen once on a hummingbird. He heard Castiel's gasp of delighted surprise and heard a whispered "they're beautiful" and smiled. He wasn't a flashy being by nature but Hariel had to admit that the acknowledgement felt good.

Without losing anymore time, Hariel launched himself into the air as gently as he could. It wasn't enough to prevent Cass from whimpering in pain but the little guy didn't cry or complain. He was honestly impressed. He had seen adults turn into bawling babies for less.  
  


* * *

  
He naturally arrived in the middle of a curious crowd. Attracting unwanted attention was apparently ingrained in his very being. But since he hadn't flown much since his arrival, always hateful of the attention he had an innate knack to attract, he supposed that the curiosity was understandable. It didn't make him feel any better.

At least angels had enough intelligence and common sense to get out of the way when it was needed, like right now. They parted to give him space to land and they did the same thing when he moved towards the Healer Centre entrance, having seen the hurt child clinging to him like a winged limpet.

The pseudo-hospital was full to the brim with patients, some ready and eager to leave and some that would never do so, not alive. It was completely different from the muggle Hospitals he had seen on the TV, unfortunately the same could not be said for Hogwarts infirmary. They two were similar, eerily similar, except for the size and some obvious difference in culture. The differences didn't make Hariel feel any better. But he was a man...err, angel on a mission so, with all the pig-headed stubbornness and single-mindedness that characterized him, Hariel plunged onwards.

He completely ignored the surprised and/or outraged healers in favour of searching for one specifically, and thanks to all the random information that God had dumped inside his mind he knew exactly where to find him.

Raphael was not having a good day... No, better make that a good month. He was not having a good month. The war had been brutal, many had died, many had been injured and he had been right there in the middle of a sea of blood, healing allies and maiming enemies on regular intervals. The worst had been seeing his big brother, his idol in every sense, leading the enemy side.

It had almost destroyed him.

It had almost destroyed all of them. But at least his brothers got to rest now that it had ended, he had no such luxury. He was a healer, the best one, and it was their job to clean up the mess, close wounds, reset bones, reunite limbs if possible, smooth torn and clawed grace and lift flayed spirits. He was honestly sick of it.

He was currently resetting a bad break on a wing when the newest angel, who dared prance around with their Father's mark, entered his sanctuary like he owned it. Following closely behind him were many of his once apprentices, looking frustrated, frazzled and scared. The scared part, he supposed, was directed at him seeing how the newcomer wasn't even bothering to pretend that they existed. Raphael was ready to tear into this intruder when his attention was grabbed by a pained whimper coming from the other's arms. What had possessed him to not notice the injured child clinging to the strange angel? It was glaringly obvious when one took a second to look.

It seemed like the angel, Har-something-or-another, thought similarly, if the acidic and frankly impressive glare sent his way was anything to go by.

Ignoring the mass of healers at his back with the experience gained from dodging rabid hyenas... I mean, journalists, Hariel walked towards a free bed and tried to get Castiel to let go of him. It was not an easy task and the little guy had a killer grip to boot. Ouch, that was going to bruise. When he managed to settle the fledging enough so he was only cutting the blood flow on one of his arms as opposed to all of him, he directed his eyes towards Raphael.

If looks could kill Hariel would've died a thousand times over. As it was, looks couldn't kill so he wasn't fazed. Snape had been scarier to him when he was an impressionable eleven years old. Unfortunately for Raphael he hadn't been that little boy for a long, long time.

"He has been buried under fallen rubble for at the very least three weeks, if not more. I thought he should be a priority."

Raphael didn't have an answer to that, still he snarled: "You have a veritable army of qualified healers running after you, why not let them do their jobs?" Despite his attitude, the Archangel had immediately shifted focus from his not-critical patient to Castiel who was looking worse by the second. Hariel moved as far as he could, which wasn't very far, to let the older being do his thing.

"True, but you I know, if only by rumours, them, on the other hand, I have no idea," he tilted his head towards the scandalized healers crowding outside.

Raphael snorted but had to admit, if only to himself, that the angel's words made sense. He didn't have to like them though. He looked up and saw everybody looking at him with wide eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for? If you have time to gawk then you have time to do double rounds!" Nobody moved "What are you still doing here? Return to your work!" The crowd scampered away faster than prey in front of a predator. Hariel whistled, impressed.

"I wish I could clear a room that fast," he responded in the face of the questioning frown directed at him.

Raphael looked at him oddly before seemingly deciding that it was too much hassle to try to figure him out and so he focused on his patient.  
  


* * *

  
It was almost three hours later that Hariel was woken up by a strong shake on his shoulder. His reaction wasn't what the being doing the waking, or anyone else for that matter, had expected. He leaped, almost faster than they could see and landed in a crouch near the doorway, a good ten feet away. His lips were curled in a savage snarl and his hand was clutching at his angelic sword in a vice grip that turned his knuckles white. His green eyes were glowing with barely restrained power but they were also unfocused, which told the occupants of the room that the black-haired angel wasn't really seeing any of them.

Gabriel, the one who had tried to wake the other up, was gaping like a fish on land, his hand still extended and desperately trying to come up with a way to salvage the situation without getting into a fight in the middle of the Healer's Centre. Pity that his brain seemed to have short-circuited. Michael, who had been sufficiently curious at the actions of their newest brother, had left his work to see what, exactly, everyone was gossiping about. He hadn't expected Hariel, who had arrived right  _after_  the war had ended, to react in the way that only the severely traumatized by unspeakable horror did. It made him frown at the endless possibilities, none of them good. Raphael, for his part, was stoically watching the scene unfold as it would, but he too was frowning.

Ironically it was Castiel who put an end to what was shaping to be an epical flashback.

"Hariel?" He asked timidly from between Michael and Raphael. He looked and obviously was better, his broken wing was in a splinter and bandaged, as was his leg; he had been extensively treated for his burns and had balm over his bruises. His grace, which had been eating itself due to the lack of an adult angel to provide for him, was once more stable, if weak. It would recover with time and rest and constant supervision, much like malnourishment. "Are you ok?"

Hariel blinked as a sweet voice that had no place in his nightmares managed to pierce the fog of his memories. He looked around with the proverbial 'deer-in-the-headlights' look plastered on his face. Then he blushed from head to toes. He resisted the urge to bash his head on the nearest flat and hopefully hard surface

"Ah, yes, I'm alright, just surprised, that's all," answered with a strained smile. It was true too, he had been surprised, badly, and it had almost ended in a disaster of some sort, the violent sort. "I'll leave now," he turned to a downcast Castiel and ignored the curious gazes that were trying to burn a hole in his skull, "but I will visit if you want me to..." he left the question hanging and got a positive response in the form of a wide smile and dimples.

Before anyone could get a word in edgewise, he disappeared in a gust of wind, a mixture of old apparition and flying.  
  


* * *

  
The mystery that was Hariel kept nagging at the back of everyone's mind, in particular the three remaining Archangels.

Nevertheless, the initial suspicion and wariness had eased a bit when he returned with the injured Castiel in arms and on the brink of exhaustion. It wasn't easy for the angels to ignore the other's obvious oddness, but risking one's well-being for one of their own managed to smooth the way to acceptance a little, if not completely. Still, now that said fact was established, it must also be noted that first impressions were very difficult to forget. Hariel, in particular, was terrible at forgetting and forgiving. So, when someone tried to approach him, he panicked, made up some bullshit excuse on the spot and practically bolted out of the city.

When the incident was repeated on the next day, and the next one, and so on, his disappearances too started to become more frequent. As time progressed each of his visits to Castiel became farther apart until he finally stopped visiting altogether as every time he was ambushed by some well-meaning 'brother'.

Hariel knew that he was being irrational and maybe a little childish, but he couldn't afford to care; not when the angels seemingly had turned out to be almost as fickle as the wizards and witches he had left behind when he died. Rationally he knew that it wasn't fair to compare them and that they were nothing alike, but as we said, first impressions tended to stick. This was especially true for Hariel who didn't truly believed that anyone but little Cass honestly cared about what he did or what may happen to him, even if some of them were trying to make amends. So he kept going off on his own, unaware that his continued and wilful isolation had caught several someone's attention and subsequent worry.

It was Gabriel the one who ended with the task of shadowing the petite angel. The reason was simple: he was the only one with the patience and the talent for such underhanded tactic. Raphael was too busy at the moment and as subtle as a hammer to the head, and Michael... Well, let's say that Michael would blow up the plan and everything in between when his explosive temper reached his rather short end. For his part, Gabriel thought that it may do the General some good to abandon his stuffy office, but his brother as always ignored his pleas, the stuck-up bastard. Still, this game was fun. Hariel was a wicked opponent and even unaware of the game the odd angel managed to shake him off half of the time. Him! Him who was the unrivalled master of hide-and-seek! That would not do!

Gabriel grumbled and huffed as the trail of his pray became cold, again, and settled on another route,  _again._  He wandered around the destroyed walls of the seventh circle when he felt a spike of power. He stopped cold on his tracks. The power was familiar, barely, but the familiarity was there, now if only he could put his finger on it. Spreading his gold-trimmed wings, Gabriel took off in that direction.

He landed on a cobblestone street and could only stare, amazed, at the job that Hariel had done. He didn't recognize this street in particular but standing there was like standing with a foot and a half planted in the past. The houses: modest, white, with one or two rooms, with their flat roofs, windows and doors; the streets: narrow, slanted and made of a kind of cobblestone that was a shade darker than the walls but still white. There was also pots for plants and circular spaces for threes, benches here and there and, over the roofs, lines from where oil-lamps were hanged and lit at night. There wasn't a drop of blood anywhere, almost as if the war had never happened. Gabriel knew for a fact that this entire place had been flattened during the fight. The only difference that interrupted the feeling of déjà-vu was the lack of plants that normally would've been crawling everywhere.

Gabriel gulped past the knot in his throat and the tears gathered in his golden eyes. He moved forwards, seeking the origin of the energy that had him here to begin with.

The focus turned out to be Hariel, surprisingly, as the energy radiating for him was completely different than normal. He was seated in a meditation pose, back straight and hands on his knees. Gabriel had always thought that meditation was a torture device that his sadistic older brother had designed to punish him and everyone else, but Hariel managed to, not only pull it off, but also look relaxed, which was kind of the point, if Micky was to be believed. Hariel eyes were closed and his face was peaceful in a way that it never was when awake and aware. The realization hit Gabriel like an arrow to the chest, or maybe a maze because he suddenly felt breathless. The worry lines that had always been present on Hariel's features were absent, and ironically it was thanks to said absence that Gabe was only now noticing their existence in the first place.

The arrow of guilt was driven deeper when he noticed, also for the first time, just how young Hariel was. Without his usual unhappy frown the raven-haired angel truly looked like a kid, like the kid his brand-new grace said he was. How had they not noticed? Well, because, physically, he looked older. The realization didn't make Gabriel any happier, they should've noticed how young he was, they should've never left him all alone after arriving at a completely new place, they should've seen the deep mental scarring that caused horrific flashbacks...

The youngest Archangel musings were cut short by another pulse of power coming from Hariel. What happened next would forever been branded in his memory, right next to the memory of his Father creating the stunning beauty that was the Earth.

Hariel was seated on the same garden he had visited not long ago from where he had rescued Castiel. He had chosen that place because it was a natural focus of positive energy. There was also a lot of negative energy around but to Hariel it didn't make any difference, energy was energy. Unaware of his audience, he drew on these energies, drew them closer to himself and his own power. He didn't mix them, though. He used these alien energies to power his own in order to create the image he had pictured in his mind-eye. Then he pushed it to the soil beneath him.

All around the slim figure of the seated being life sprung and grew anew. A myriad of greens made the grass, each blade as beautiful and perfect as the next; reds, pinks, yellows, blues and purples took form of all kind of flowers, every kind of flower; shyly, a tree poked his first two leaves, followed closely by four more, ten, twenty nine and so on; vines sprang like serpents from the ground and coiled around columns and archways and the same tree that had grown until it bathed a portion of the garden in refreshing shadows. An already existing pond, whose water was contaminated and agitated, was cleansed, and plants suited for life in the water bloomed. All around life exploded. And it didn't stop in the garden, it overflowed and spilled, lending a hand so plant-life could resume its existence in the streets, in the pots and in the walls.

Hariel opened his eyes and smiled at the sight. All around him life and nature had reclaimed its rightful place. Knowing that he had been the hand to guide this little miracle lifted his spirit through the non-existent roof. And guess what? He had been right before, the garden was breathtaking.

The sound of clapping kicked him out of his high-inducing success like a kick to the head. He slowly turned his head around until his eyes rested on the slouched figure of the being he knew as the Archangel Gabriel.

Gabriel was one of the angels he was more wary about. Not because the other had done something to him, besides trying to wake him up, but because everything in his demeanour reminded Hariel of a certain man. The relaxed posture, the smirk, the somewhat cocky attitude and the mischievous glint in his eyes were all painful remainders of Sirius. He was afraid that the resemblance would make him drop his guard. Hariel watched warily as Gabriel inspected his work, not moving and barely breathing.

"I gotta say I'm impressed," he had moved from the entrance and was now crouching next to the pond, back presented to the younger angel. He looked over his shoulders and gave the wary angel a smile before plopping down on his rear, this time face to face.

Hariel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing. "I do what I can do."

Gabriel nodded. "It's still impressive. Not many can do this kind of creative work anymore, not," he gestured around, "like this."

Blushing now, Hariel couldn't come back with anything to say. Gabriel, on the other hand, was bursting with questions and literally biting his tongue to stop himself. After a moment, however, his excitement was replaced by a pensive expression. He looked around, at the life that surrounded them, and then at this new brother, the stranger with odd powers and an odder personality that had landed on their laps in the middle of a cloudy day. The little brother who had saved another little brother; the one that was followed everywhere by strands of shadows, as if they were nothing more than adorable puppies licking at his feet.

"What I don't understand is how you did it?" Gabriel gaze was serious but mostly just curious. "I was under the impression that you were of the Dark..."

"And darkness can't bring life?" Snappily challenged Hariel, surprising even himself with his rather bold attitude. The blond-haired and golden eyed angel nodded. "That's ridiculous," scoffed Hariel and turned his gaze towards the pond, finding it easier to talk that way. "Life is a circle and it's everywhere, even, or specially, in Death."

Gabriel cocked his head and watched as the youngster recovered his breath after this feat of creation. One hand was resting on his lap while the other was playing with the blades of grass. A breeze lifted golden strands of hair out of his forehead and made them dance at its whim. The only thing missing, he thought, were the chirping of birds. Hariel kept mostly still and bore the scrutiny with a resigned kind of patience. It was weird, The Messenger mused, looking at this brother that seemed to know everything while being younger than Castiel, who had the air of someone who had experienced things even beyond their comprehension and had survived to tell the tale. Hariel who had eyes so haunted but still retained his sense of self and a certain... innocence than Gabriel knew he didn't possess anymore. When he has lost it he couldn't say...

In a startling moment of clarity Gabriel thought that he wouldn't mind hearing this little brother's tales; that maybe it would be interesting and maybe... maybe he would be able to help, like he had listened and helped before everything happened, before Lucifer happened. Unlike his two older brothers who could live in insufferable solitude, he couldn't, he was social by nature and this new state of things was draining him of his life faster that the war ever did.

Anyway, no matter what he wanted, if he didn't get Hariel's trust it would be a moot point. He had the sinking feeling that this was going to be a lot more difficult than dealing with Micky in one of his bitchy moods, or Raphy when he went on a full-scale rampage each time someone messed up his instructions, or Lucy when he didn't win the weekly spars with Micky, and boy, in those days more often than not he ended wanting to rip his ears off.

Ok, so baby steps? He peered at Hariel's closed off expression. Right, baby steps, he reminded himself.

"I don't get it," Gabriel confessed, deciding to return to the matter at hand as a pivoting point. It had the added bonus of being quite fascinating, so why not.

Hariel, who had been distractedly doodling on a patch of soil, turned his head to look sideways at Gabriel's earnest face. He seemed to consider something, probably if it was worth his time to explain his previous words to the hyperactive Archangel. In the end he sighed and nodded to himself. A second later he was positioned himself more comfortably, random stick of wood in hand and the little patch of soil in between them.

"Let's see if I can explain this," muttered Hariel while twirling the piece of wood expertly in his hands. Gabriel found this dexterity a bit odd but said nothing; instead he too got comfortable and waited. A minute or so later Hariel seemed to decide on a path. "Where I lived before -and no, I won't tell you where- there was a group of people who had this interesting belief."

With a firm grip on the stick Hariel drew a perfect circle on the soil. Then he divided it in two by a curved line, making each half to look like a comma. Finally he drew two more circles, both identical and opposing each other from inside the fullest part of the comma-like form. Hariel inspected his work with a frown before sending a bit of magic into it. As a result, one half was coloured white, except for the small circle which was the black like the soil; while, on the other side, the circle was coloured white, leaving the rest black.

Gabriel followed the entire process with more than a little confusion and fascination. Seeing the form and the colours he already had an idea of where this conversation may be going.

"This symbol represents the concept of  _Ying and Yang_ *****. There is a lot to be said about it but I will stick to the basics as I am no expert," Hariel warned. He wondered briefly about the fact that he was basically discussing another religion with a Christian Archangel and decided that it didn't matter. It wasn't about the religion but the idea anyway. "The  _Ying and Yang_  concept is simple in essence. It is used to describe how polar opposites or seemingly contrary forces are in reality interconnected and interdependent in the natural world and how they give rise to each other in turn. As such, opposites only exist in relation to each other." He tapped the symbol drawn on the ground.

"One simple example is Light and Dark. Within this idea those two are not opposing forces but complementary opposites that interact within a greater whole, as part of a dynamic system. They are different, yes, but necessary for the other to survive and balance to be kept."

Then Hariel paused and seemed to debate over something, before sighing and resuming the lecture where he left it. "Everything has  _yin and yang_ aspects as light cannot exist without darkness and vice-versa. It is possible, however, for either of these aspects to manifest more strongly in particular objects...or beings. I'm such an example."

"There was a time when I was almost entirely light, you know?" No, Gabriel didn't know and it was startling to hear. What had happened for Hariel to become darkness instead? Where had the light gone? "I lived on a place where all aspects of Dark Arts, as they call them, where feared and I learned to fear them too, even though I used to play with shadows as a child when the loneliness was too much to bear."

"I feared them so much that I started to push my own darkness down, I tried to destroy that part of me that made me, believing it to be wrong and dangerous." He sighed and slumped tiredly, as if the weight of past mistakes was still pressing on him. And in a way it was. "I was a fool. I should've known that it wouldn't last but..." He interrupted himself and glared at nothing in particular.

"Then something terrible happened, something so... painful that the barriers of self-denial that I had built were destroyed, crushed beyond anything I could've imagined." Here Hariel laughed but it wasn't a happy or nice sound, it was painful and hollow and it made Gabriel flinch. The Archangel's attention never wavered though. He had a feeling that the green-eyed angel would not be repeating this story any time soon. "The Dark swallowed me in revenge, crushed everything Light in me. Or so I thought. I still don't know how but a tiny flame resisted the onslaught and survived, if barely."

Hariel's hands were glowing a bright, lovely white in the same shade that the Morning Star used to glow. With his face scrunched up in concentration the angel gently directed the flow towards the bare soil and almost immediately grass grew and flowers bloomed. It was beautiful. And it was taxing on Hariel who was left panting afterwards. He let the glow die and watched at his hands mournfully.

"It's too soon," he whispered. He looked up and locked eyes misted with tears with Gabriel's own teary gaze. The pain in that look, in the very air, was unbearable. "I'm still recovering," he confessed and, at the same time, confirmed Gabriel's suspicions that whatever had happened it happened not long ago. "I can't access much of the light side of my power and I know that I'll never be able to do it like before." Gabriel looked mutinous at that but Hariel cut him off before he could even open his mouth to protest. "I can't. It's already a miracle that I didn't end like..." he gulped, "like your Morning Star."

Gabriel recoiled as if slapped. His golden eyes were wide and desperate and in so much pain, it tore Hariel inside. But this needed to be said in order for past mistakes not to be repeated, so that the future would be better that what he had glimpsed at. Anything was better than that apocalyptic inferno he had seen.

So Hariel continued in spite of Gabriel's silent plea to  _shut up, please._

"That was why the brightest of us ended being the darkest of all." He was not looking at Gabriel anymore, he couldn't bear witness to that pain. "He probably hated the darkness more than I did but... but light only exist in contrast with its dark counterpart, that's a fact, and ignoring your darkness it's not good, not good at all. He must be in so much pain now..." Hariel was now hugging himself and tears were streaming down his cheeks but he didn't seem to notice. He even forgot that he had an audience.

"What do you mean he is in pain?" Gabriel's words snapped him back from his memories. However, it was the sheer idiocy of the question angered him.

"How would you feel if I were to cut you in half right now but left you alive to experience it? That's how I felt when most of my Light was snuffed out, as if someone had picked up a spoon and carved half of myself out. How do you think he is feeling right now, with nothing but a hungry abyss of nothingness nested in his core?"

Once again Gabriel reared back, wide-eyed and looking almost as young, scared and hurt as Hariel himself. Hariel felt a bit guilty but not enough to apologize, he had only said the truth after all. They stayed in silence for a long time, doing nothing but soak on Nature's tranquillity. Finally, Gabriel broke the silence.

"Why tell me all this? What purpose does it serve? Broth- Lucifer fell, he is not here anymore."

Hariel didn't answer immediately. Instead he turned his eyes towards his older brother and proceeded to examine him. Looking for what, Gabriel couldn't say, but Hariel didn't offer any reason and only answered when he seemed to find whatever he had been looking for.

"He's not," he agreed. "But you and everyone else are. What makes you think that what happened once can't happen twice?" Gabriel eyes widened and understanding dawned on them. But Hariel wasn't done. "Some things cannot be prevented, some events will always be out of our control no matter what we do but that doesn't mean that we cannot try to make it better. It doesn't mean that we can stop caring or fighting for the good of the world. It doesn't mean that we have to just roll with the punches. The future is not set in stone, more like very hard sand if you ask me," here he scoffed. Something that had not changed was his hatred of every and all kinds of Divination. The mere word left a bitter taste in his mouth that he couldn't rid off no matter what he tried.

"Why would I have asked you that?"

Hariel stood and dusted his clothes absently.

"Well, I'm alive, aren't I?" He said with a self-satisfying smirk.

Gabriel mouth hanged open. Why indeed.

It didn't occur to Gabriel until much later that he had seen Hariel's first and genuine pseudo-smile since the little angel had crashed into Heaven on that memorable and cloudy day.  
  


* * *

* * *

  
Gabriel was pacing and mumbling incomprehensible things to himself while the Winchester brothers, Bobby Singer, a bunch of humans hunters and a multitude of angels watched in amusement. Well, the humans watched in amusement as the angels were too dignified and disciplined to outright laugh at their commander, even if he  _was_  acting funny.

Outside of their base of operations the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, signalling the start of a new day and everything that came with it, namely a horde of demon-possessed humans ready to tear them limb for limb. Gabriel scrunched up his nose in disgust at the thought.

Looking around he couldn't help but remember all the things that had changed since Hariel's arrival and later his mysterious disappearance. If Hariel hadn't talked to him that day, hadn't explained the once strange concept of yin and yang, if he hadn't confided in him about part of his past and shared his knowledge on what had really happened to Lucifer... well he wasn't sure what would've happened, but he knew that he wouldn't be amongst humans, leading them and a good portion of his brothers to battle against an army of demons hell-bent on freeing his once beloved older brother.

Without Hariel and later Castiel, who used to follow the green-eyed angel like a duckling much to The Messenger's never ending amusement, Gabriel may've done something monumentally stupid, like leaving Heaven. He could see now how much damage his desertion would've caused to Michael and Raphael, both of them had already been on the path to losing themselves, just like him. His abandonment may've been the little thing to push them over the edge.

Hariel's teachings had become common knowledge after a fashion and, while not everybody accepted them, some did and that had changed everything. Hariel became well loved by most of them and after a trial period the black-haired angel finally returned the love and started to heal from his own wounds. For a long time everything was perfect.

Then Hariel had disappeared. He had left nothing behind except for his teachings, a soul-tearing and never-ending pain and a short message:

' _I'll be back when you less expect it. Love, Hariel.'_

Thousands of years had passed and he still wasn't back. But they had persevered, or most of them had. Some angels had never liked Hariel and were happy to see him go, even if they were excruciatingly careful to not let it show for fear of what would happen. The result of that perseverance was clear now, here, with angels and humans working together and ready to fight till death if that prevented the end of all life on Earth.

In another life, in one without Hariel, Gabriel could easily imagine just how bad this would've gone, with only the Winchester brothers and their little circle of hunter friends to fend off the hordes of Hell. Hell, he could imagine the awful place that Heaven would've become, the ugly parody that had started to rear its ugly head immediately after Lucifer's betrayal.

Gabriel sighed and looked at the sun again. It had completely risen while he had been lost in his thoughts. A ray of sunshine amongst many reached him and gently caressed the pendant he had taken to wearing after a certain brother disappearance. He put a hand over it, caressing the warm metal with careful fingers. He still found it hilarious that Hariel had used another religion's ideas to illustrate his thoughts and had taken to wearing a  _yin and yang_ pendant, hung in a silver chain, as a reminder of his little brother's teachings and wicked sense of humour.

It was worth it if only for the sour face Michael displayed each time he caught a glimpse of it. Not that the General of Heaven ever said anything against it. Actually, Gabriel was pretty sure that Micky had his own pendant hidden somewhere, he just needed proof and whoila! Instant blackmail material.

He sighed and turned around to address his soldiers when the strangest thing happened. The door bell sounded. Problem was they didn't have a bell even if they did have a door for the humans to use. Whoever was on the other side was impatient as the bell sounded again, this time louder.

"Gabe! You'd better open up now or I swear I'll..." the sentence was never finished as a second later the door flung open and Gabriel flung himself at the stranger who let out a breathless 'oof' and fell flat on his back, lap full of happy Archangel. He tried to squirm his way out of the embrace but gave up soon after. "I missed you too, you big oaf."

"Hariel," a rough voice whispered with so much relief that he could probably soak in it. The newly identified Hariel looked around and his eyes locked on the form of a man of medium stature, lean, with messy black hair and the bluest eyes ever seen on a human, eyes that did nothing to hide the power lurking behind them.

"Hey little Cass," he said much to the humans growing confusion and diminishing wariness, "you can join if you want just..."

Once more he couldn't finish as the air was forcefully expulsed from his lungs for a second time. Gabriel squealed in outrage at being displaced but simply re-accommodated his vessel's body to let Cass crush... eer, embrace his big brother, saviour and pseudo-father figure.

"...d-on't jump o-on me..." finished Hariel lamely. "Y-you guys will be the death of me, I swear..." wheezed Hariel, breathless but sporting a wide smile all the same.

Gabriel sniffed playfully. "Get used to it. You've many years of glomping to make up for."

"Great," commented sarcastically Hariel. But everything was soon forgotten in favour of smiling in happiness. He couldn't see much from his position under two grown men but he could still hear the happy and exited whispers form his brothers and feel the smiles concealed in them. It was good to know that he had been fondly missed. He had missed them too. But first things first; they had a mission to complete. "So... are we ready to kick some ass?"

Castiel looked at him with wide and innocent eyes, just like eons ago; while Gabriel fell over, fortunately not on him, trapped in the middle of a laughing attack.

Castiel nodded seriously. And then he opened his mouth.

"Let's gank the bastards."

The laughing resumed after a beat of incredulous silence, stronger than before and shared by everyone, even the humans shared a couple of chuckles although they didn't yet understand much of what was going on.

"By the way," said Gabriel after recovering his breath, "welcome Home brother."

"It's good to be back."

 

**Author's Note:**

>  ***** Ying and yang information was taken from the internet, mainly wikipedia. My knowledge of it it's limited to what everybody knows.


End file.
